From Bullets To Billions - Chapter 489

Capítulo 489: Strength Vs Exoskelton

There was one thing Na was genuinely relieved about, his opponent was still standing. Despite the overwhelming cheers, the tense atmosphere, and the throbbing ache in his knuckles, that single fact was enough to keep Na grounded. Hurting someone from the Gilt Rats, even accidentally, could spiral into consequences far beyond this cage. The Billion Bloodline group already had enough problems with the Black Hounds. The last thing Max needed was for Na to spark a second war with someone even higher-ranked.

Yet even with that fear gnawing at him, Na stared at Evon in disbelief.

How is he still okay? How did that punch not break him?

My fist… it’s stinging. Did I hit metal? Is he wearing armour under that jacket?

Na flexed his fingers subtly. His knuckles weren’t damaged, but the sensation was undeniable. There had been resistance, hard resistance, not like striking flesh or bone. If Evon really had something mechanical reinforcing him, that would explain a lot. But it also meant Na needed to tread even more carefully.

He reminded himself that the body of a superhuman had to be able to withstand its own strength. If someone like him could shatter concrete, their bones needed to be durable enough not to break from the recoil. Still, metal was metal. And hitting it at full speed stung.

Evon, however, looked invigorated. His eyes brightened with an almost childlike excitement.

“Alright,” Evon said, lowering his stance. “Looks like I’m going to need to try something.”

He rushed in again, adopting the same pattern as before, kicks thrown in sharp arcs, subtle openings appearing like shifting shadows around his form. Na recognized some of the setups, but the timing felt different. The rhythm of the fight was changing.

This time, when Na launched a compact punch toward Evon’s side, Evon did not dodge.

Instead, he lifted his hand and reached out.

Na felt his wrist halt abruptly.

Evon had grabbed his fist in mid-punch.

A faint mechanical whir vibrated from Evon’s arm, barely audible, but unmistakable. He had activated something beneath the leather jacket.

With a twist, Evon flung Na’s arm away effortlessly.

“No,” Evon said sharply. “This isn’t it!”

His tone carried a frustration that bordered on offended.

“You’re holding back! This punch isn’t anywhere near as hard as the last one. Do you really need me to hurt you just to get you to strike at full force?”

Evon stepped in as he spoke, driving a punch toward Na’s side. Na raised his forearm to block, as he had done countless times. Normally, that was enough; his body was sturdy, and his guard solid.

But this time was different.

The moment Evon’s fist connected, a jolt of pain ripped through Na’s entire arm. His muscles seized, his nerves screamed, and a sharp numbness followed along his forearm. He was forced to take a step sideways, unable to hold his ground.

For the first time in the match, Na felt fear.

That power… that was unnatural.

How is he hitting that hard? Such force shouldn’t come from someone his size. When I hit him, it felt like metal. And now this… something is definitely wrong.

Evon smiled wider, clearly enjoying Na’s reaction.

“Come on!” Evon taunted. “Hit me. Use everything you’ve got. I won’t die, is that what you’re worried about?”

The way he said it, the casualness of it, made Na’s heart tighten. Evon was hinting that he knew. He knew Na was holding back. He knew Na wasn’t an ordinary human. And that made the risk even greater. But if Evon could withstand it, and if doing so would help Max earn the money they desperately needed, then Na had no reason to hesitate.

He decided to take the risk.

Na moved in, planting one firm step forward. With his weight shifted and momentum winding upward through his torso, he launched a rising punch toward Evon’s stomach, a controlled but powerful blow delivered from below.

Evon braced. His hand shot out, fingers snapping tightly around Na’s fist. Again, the faint mechanical hum vibrated in his palm as the exoskeleton absorbed and redirected the force.

Na watched in disbelief as Evon successfully pushed the punch back. Evon’s grin spread even further across his face.

“I knew it,” Evon said. “I knew you had something in you. You’re not normal.”

The punch had been blocked, but Na’s instincts refused to stop. He didn’t need to understand how Evon was resisting his blows, he just knew he needed to keep attacking. That was the only way to drive the fight forward.

He threw a heavy downward punch from above. Evon’s arm shot up and knocked it away with practiced ease. Evon countered instantly, lifting a leg and driving a kick directly to Na’s stomach. The strike landed cleanly, but Na barely budged.

His body absorbed it without issue.

That gave Na the small window he needed. He stepped in and rammed his shoulder into Evon’s chest. The impact sent Evon skidding backwards. His feet lifted off the mat, and he landed harshly, sliding several feet across the floor.

He tried to rise quickly, but Na had already advanced. Na’s foot lifted, ready to hammer down into Evon’s face.

But Evon reacted faster.

He snapped both hands up and knocked Na’s leg aside. Then he lunged forward, driving a rapid pair of punches into Na’s abdomen. The strikes blurred, faster, sharper, more precise than before. Na grit his teeth as the impacts hammered into him. He felt the urge to double over, but forced himself to stay upright.

He pulled his torso back slightly and launched a hook. Evon caught it with his palm and retaliated instantly, a tight punch slamming into Na’s cheek. Blood sprayed from Na’s nose.

Evon exhaled lightly.

“You’re really making me bring out everything I’ve got,” he said. “It seems we’re different.”

His voice lowered, almost analytical, almost impressed.

“Because you’re special, your entire body is special. All of you, your punches, your kicks, your durability, they’re all enhanced.”

Evon straightened his posture, stepping forward with slow confidence.

“But me? I’m only enhanced in one area.” He lifted his hands. “My arms.”

Evon flicked his wrist, and the subtle mechanical framing beneath the jacket shifted.

“Unfortunately for you, ” he stepped in again, creating another trap “, my arms are exactly where all my strength, speed, and technique are concentrated.”

Na barely had time to react when Evon parried his next jab and snapped a punch directly into his face. The strike landed with surgical precision, and a fresh burst of blood scattered through the air.

“I don’t just have strength,” Evon said calmly. “I have speed. And I have my fighting style.”